Gangsta Sexy
by WearingGenocide
Summary: Written in verse, Gangsta Sexy tells a tale of college marching band, life and love from the perspective of an ADHD girl named Millie. Will she deal with living next to her enemy, or will she become a traitor to herself?
1. Prelude to my Life

**Prelude to my life.**

Hello!

I am Millie.

I am a college student.

Very small college.

Private.

About 1,000 students.

I live in a co-ed dorm.

On the 4th floor.

Blech.

I don't know if you know this.

But the 4th floor of any building without an elevator?

It sucks.

Like.

_Sucks_.

Anyhow.

I'm a music composition major.

It's really, really fun.

Uhm…

I'm a sophomore this year.

It's pretty laid back for me.

Easy classes for the fall semester.

Oh!

And I'm a band geek.

Yupp.

Full on, raging dork.

I bet you're wondering what I play, yes?

Well.

I play all of the woodwind instruments.

That's right.

All of them.

And I dabble in piano and guitar.

It's pretty cool.

But my main instrument, my baby?

That's the bari sax.

Yupp.

A baritone saxophone.

The 15+ pound, 4 foot long beast of a sax.

Rather fun for a small girl to play.

Ohh, yes.

Me, in all my 5'3" glory.

I haul around that monster.

Danglin' from my neck.

And I love it.

I participate in a few bands.

Wind ensemble, jazz…

I didn't do marching band last year.

I'd had enough of it in high school.

But alas, I've been convinced to join.

However.

They wish for me to play trumpet.

Which, if you don't know, is not a woodwind.

Nor is it a piano or guitar.

No, I do not know how to play the trumpet.

So why did I agree to this?

…

I might be mentally challenged.

So, I start school in a couple weeks.

Tomorrow I'll be moving into my dorm early for band camp.

Ahh, band camp…

I didn't miss that horrible hell-week.

But at least the trumpet weighs a lot less than my sax.

Oh!

I believe I'm missing the section telling you what I look like.

I'm 18, turning 19 in a month.

As I said, I'm 5'3" tall.

I have rather strange eyes.

One is green.

One is purple.

I've never been given an answer as to why.

I also have slightly cat-like irises.

Not full on creepy cat eyes.

They just kind of point up and down a little.

If that makes sense.

I have light blonde hair.

Very long, in tight waves.

And there are purple highlights on the bottom layer and a few in the top.

I'm sort of tan.

Sort of not.

I do wear glasses.

But I switched to contacts a few years back.

So that's me!

If you're wondering why I write like this, lemme explain.

I'm sort of spazzy.

And a little twitchy.

(Okay, so that's a lie.)

But I am a spazz.

Writing this way helps me keep my focus.

Because I can see the sentences individually.

Instead of all lumped together.

And it follows my weird train of thought.

I know it's a little dry now.

But it'll get better.

[cross my heart.]

See?

Promise.

You'll also feel uber-smart for reading it so fast.

;D


	2. Dancin' With Myself

**Dancin' with myself.**

"Mom! I got this! You can go home now!"

[insert my mother squawking at me.]

Of course, she needs to make a fuss over my moving into my dorm.

It's what she does best.

Honestly, I love her to death, but sometimes I wish I could mute her.

Finally I get her to leave me be.

I have all my boxes and bags in my room, I just need to unpack.

Now, I'm the kind of person who always has to have music playing.

So I find my radio, plug in my iPod touch, and go to town unpacking.

I take the left side of the room, the one I'm used to being on.

I loft the bed that they give us as high as it will go.

I don't plan on using it.

I do put a mattress cover on it and throw some pillows up there.

Then I take my futon and slide it under the lofted bed.

So it's like double-decker seating.

Though I'll sleep on the futon.

I like to sprawl, and twin long sized beds are just not good for sprawling.

I fix up the futon with pillows and blankets then push my desk up against the windows and unpack all of my desk items.

This includes my billions of sketchbooks, markers, pencils, and anime/chibi drawing books.

Then I unpack my clothes.

And sooner than I would've thought, I'm done.

I collapse on the futon, my favourite song coming on.

Immediately I'm back up, dancing around the room.

Forgetting that the door is open.

And that my obnoxious neighbor Benny is moving in next door.

"Do you mind?"

I halt all motion.

[gulp.]

"Benny, get out of here! Don't you have better things to do than creep in my doorway?" I ask, glaring at him.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Not when I have to listen to your music on full volume, Miss Millie."

Oh.

"Sorry."

[is really not sorry.]

"I see you're all moved in. Think you coulda been any louder lofting that bed?"

I glare.

"Think you coulda maybe offered some help, Mr. Six-foot-two?" I bite.

"Hmm, nope. Actually, I was wondering if you'd help me out… I can't get my mattress cover to stay on."

I roll my eyes.

"Flip it so the short sides are the other way. You know, lined up with the shorter sides of the bed. If that doesn't work, I know the nearest clown college; I can have you enrolled rather quickly."

He leers at me and says, "You know, you could try being a little nicer, Mills."

"I could. But then, I could not."

"You seem to have no problem being a bitch, that's for sure…"

[do not punch him.]

[do not punch him.]

[do not punch him.]

"Go away. And try not to let your mattress outsmart you."

He chuckles, "Is this how it's gonna be all year? Really? I didn't get a single room so I could listen to your music and tv all day, every day."

"And I didn't get a single room so that you could stand in here and bitch at me about something that's not going to change. So good day to you sir."

And I slam the door in his face.

[smirk.]

I hear his door slam in obvious anger, and I feel glad that we have 2 weeks to get used to each other before anyone else on our floor moves in.

He's in marching band also.

And he plays the trumpet.

Of _course_.

He's a sophomore also.

And he's one of those lanky skinny tall guys.

Dark brown hair, always messy, kinda long.

Blue eyes, filled with _evilllll_.

Pale, probably from too many hours playing video games.

Annoying as hell, but I bet you already can tell.

Anyhow.

So I sit back down, turn the music off, and take out my trumpet.

Now.

I taught myself the trumpet over the summer.

And I'm decent, it's not bad.

But I am _loud_.

[teehee.]

And I like it that way.

It's pretty awesome.

Considering that most of our trumpet players are awful.

[including Benny.]

So I start to play, softly at first.

But once I get into it, I travel to a forte.

Then a double forte.

[that's loud.]

And who do you think interrupts me?

"Millie!"

[door slams open.]

"Yes?"

[looks up.]

"It's 10 p.m.!"

[seethes.]

"So?"

[shrugs.]

"I'm trying to sleep, we have band tomorrow!"

[yells.]

"Oh."

[sets down trumpet.]

[door slams shut.]

[bedtime.]


	3. I Control the World

**I control the world.**

My alarm goes off at 7a.m., and I growl.

I'm not a morning person…

But, alas, I wake up and shower and get ready for band.

However, of course, my day has to start horribly.

I step out of the shower and dry off, then wrap myself in a towel.

[i had grabbed my hair towel.]

Now.

This towel is considerably smaller than my body towel.

So I figure I'll be fine if I rush back to my room.

I look out into the hallway, the coast is clear.

And I make a run for it.

But I fumble with my roomkey.

And of course.

"Whoa. That's more of you than I needed to see this early in the morning."

I turn around, fuming.

But then I stop and grin evilly.

"Oh really? It looks to me like you're happy to see it."

He looks down.

"Shit."

"Might wanna take care of that."

[open door.]

[close door.]

[die a little.]

I continue to get ready for band, trying not to think too hard about what had just happened.

[oh no, hard… O_O]

I throw on a pair of denim shorts and a red tanktop.

However.

Just as I'm about to put socks and shoes on, a knock comes from my door.

"Come in," I call, looking through my dresser for red socks.

I hear the door open, and a cough.

[ahem.]

"Millie, would you care to walk to band with me?"

[turn around slowly.]

"…Are you trying to mess with me, Sparks?"

Benny scowls a little, "No! I'm trying to be nice for once! Maybe you should try it some time…"

"Fine, I'll walk to band with you," I tell him, biting back an insult and sitting down to tie my shoes.

"Forget about it," he snarls, turning and storming away.

[shrug.]

[put shoes on.]

[time for band.]

I grab my trumpet and head out, only a few steps behind Benny.

When I get to the music hall, I sigh heavily.

Everybody is panicking.

Apparently the leader of the band transferred without telling anybody.

So we're left with no show, no music, nothing.

"Does anybody know how to write drill? ...Or music?" a random senior asks.

Now, see...

My major, composition, isn't too popular here.

It's such a small school that I'm the only one majoring in it.

So, reluctantly, I raise my hand.

"I know how."

[group turn and stare.]

"...I'm a comp major. And I can write us a show."

I know I'll regret this later.

The same senior runs up and hugs me.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You'll really be the new leader of the band?"

My eyes go wide, "The new leader? Like... in charge?"

"Yes! If you're writing the show and music, then you should be the new president! You can call rehearsals and stuff... Nobody else is really qualified..."

I stare at her for a moment, "...You know I'm only a sophomore, yes?"

[is she on crack?]

"I know, but if you think about it, this way you'll have experience. Please, we don't have anyone else. I'm the only senior and I don't have time."

"...Okay..."

[cringe, twitch, die a little.]

"So, what should we do now?"

It's now that I realise that everybody is staring at me for directions.

Me!

The one who can't focus for more than three seconds at a time.

They want me to lead them.

"Lets go to the practise field and work on marching fundamentals. We're learning roll step this year, none of that chair step crap."

...Did that just come out of my mouth?

Judging by the look of defeat on Benny's face, I think it did.

I walk up behind him and poke the pressure point in his spine, making him yelp and turn around to glare at me, "WHAT?"

"I'm sorry if you hate that I'm in charge, but its not changing, so suck it up."

He sneers and leans down, whispering, "If you think this is going to make me respect you, you've got another thing coming."


End file.
